


A Night's Entertainment

by Evergreene



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Fluff for Fluff's Sake, Gen, Post-Series, blanket forts are the best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:29:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29532729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evergreene/pseuds/Evergreene
Summary: Searching for her husband one night at the palace, Constance finds him in the company of a close friend and a young king.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 34





	A Night's Entertainment

‘D’Artagnan?’

Tugging her silk shawl more tightly about her shoulders, Constance edged around the half-open doorway of the palace library and leant inside, entirely unsure of what she would find there. Her husband had disappeared from the Queen’s birthday celebrations soon after dessert had been served, and had been gone so long she was beginning to worry he had been taken ill.

A childish giggle answered her and, confused, she nudged the door open the rest of the way, revealing the expansive view of the immense, lamp-lit room lined by soaring bookshelves.

There, amongst a cacophony of bedsheets strewn and hung from a vast maze of high backed chairs and tilted tables, was her husband, the elegant navy doublet he had worn to the dinner clearly cast off some time ago, his dark hair rumpled and finely stitched shirt askew. Surrounding the structure was a fortress of desks laid out on their sides – many of which, she knew, were treasured antiques rumoured to be amongst the finest furniture in the kingdom.

Spotting her, d’Artagnan held a lean finger to his lips and hushed her. ‘Quiet,' he warned. ‘There’s trouble afoot.’

‘Trouble?’

Concerned, she began to step further into the room, only to pause as another high pitched giggle reached her.

D’Artagnan nodded gravely. ‘His highness,’ he confided, glancing behind him, ‘has found an intruder in the garrison. Do not fear though, he is in pursuit even as we speak.’

All sense of apprehension faded and Constance folded her arms across her chest, disbelief warring with amusement.

‘Intruder?’ she asked, arching a brow.

D’Artagnan grinned, his white teeth flashing in the warm glow of the many lamps scattered about the cavernous room.

‘Our future king had been sitting still a long time over dinner and was bored. So I’m entertaining him.’

‘Shhhhhhh!’ came a commandingly loud child’s voice from amidst the scattered bedsheets.

Constance stepped close to d’Artagnan, lowering her voice instinctively.

‘D’Artagnan,’ she scolded. ‘What if the Queen were to find out about this?’’

‘It was the Queen’s idea!’ d’Artagnan shot back, and with that he dropped down to disappear behind the bedsheets again.

Pursing her lips, Constance wondered for a moment whether to intervene, but the sound of another high pitched giggle and her husband’s barely restrained laugh decided her. Picking up her skirts, she tugged her slippery shawl back about her shoulders and turned to return to the party, only to startle at the crash of falling furniture at her back.

‘Sire!’ she cried, forgetting herself as she swung round, arms already reaching forward to pull the child from danger.

‘It’s alright, Constance,' interrupted a new voice. Startled, she spun round to see the First Minister of France emerging from behind the wreckage of chairs and tables with the young king perched securely on his hip.

Aramis’s hair was as rumpled as d’Artagnan’s, but there was a light in his eyes she had not seen in many a year as he came up beside her.

‘His majesty has decided he wants to play a new game,’ he told her conspiratorially. ‘A better one.’ Tucked into his broad shoulder, the King nodded excitedly, his blond curls bouncing.

Constance could not help the smile that came to her face. ‘And what game is that, Sire?’

‘Rebuilding the garrison!’

‘It’s his favourite,' Aramis confided in her. ‘It is just unfortunate that to rebuild it, you have to knock it over first.’ Bending down, he set the young king back on his slippered feet and nodded towards Constance. ‘What do you say, your Majesty? Shall we recruit another musketeer to our cause?’

The king eyed her apprehensively, then beckoned Aramis over, who dropped obligingly onto his knees so his ear was on the royal level.

‘But she’s a _girl_!’

The carefully whispered words were loud and Constance stepped back in feigned shock, her hand going over her heart, rustling the crisp blue fabric of her best dress

‘But has no one told you, your Majesty?’ she exclaimed. ‘Girls make the very best musketeers of all!’

Beside her, Aramis nodded, still crouched down beside his king. ‘It’s true,' he said, lowering his voice covertly. ‘I once witnessed our Constance defeat a man twice her size using my very own sword.’

‘Why didn’t _you_ fight him?’ the King wanted to know, clearly confused as to why his First Minister hadn’t taken care of the situation as he did everything else.

‘I? I was too busy looking after the baby,' explained Aramis.

The King frowned, clearly deep in thought over this new revelation. ‘Very well,' he announced finally, turning his back decisively on Aramis to face her. ‘You can be the Captain.’

Aramis rose to his feet with a flourish. ‘Excellent choice, your Majesty!’ he exclaimed. ‘I cannot think of another person in this room more suited to the job. We’ll make a king of you yet.’

The child giggled, dimples showing. ‘Silly Aramis. I’m already king.’

‘Then we’ll make you the best king that France has ever seen!’ Bending down to pick the King up, Aramis swung him round, and the child’s excited shouts rang throughout the room as he was flown through the air.

Smiling as she watched the two of them, Constance was only half aware of her husband clambering his way out from beneath a large pile of sheets and toppled chairs and limping over to gain her side.

‘It seems my mission was successful,' he announced with satisfaction, rubbing his elbow with a wince as he watched their friend with the young king.

‘Hmm?’ Constance said absently.

‘My mission. To entertain the King.’

Constance darted him a sideways look. ‘It seems like Aramis is doing a fine job of that without you,' she said tartly.

D’Artagnan grinned impishly. ‘Perhaps we can find an empty corridor and I can find some ways to entertain you instead?’

Constance smacked his arm, cheeks reddening. ‘Hush!’

But she was smiling as she turned from the room to seek out the Queen, leaving the young king of France in the watchful, careful care of his First Minister and the Captain of his Musketeers.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I'd love to know what you think. :)


End file.
